


Stay With Me. Don't Let Me Go.

by PaladinGabe



Series: JeanMarco Month [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Grounding Technique, Jeanmarco Month, Leukemia, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Military Homecoming, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety, prompt fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaladinGabe/pseuds/PaladinGabe
Summary: All my contributions to the prompts of JeanMarco Month will be posted here. Get ready for an attempt to a decent update schedule my SnK OTP.





	1. Ashes of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a very long time since I've written anything! You know, life sucks. Don't have a lot of excuses. I hope you enjoy! Most of them will be drabbles for each prompt.

_Jean has watched the news a_ lot more since Marco had been deployed. It was nerve-wracking for him to be away from his lover for months at a time. Thinking about him never coming home keeps him up at night.

They’d made their relationship work for over five years. They were going to have their wedding when he comes home. Thoughts like that keep them both going.

While he watches the news, he thinks about where his fiancé is based on his letters. The barren area and the sight of smoke makes him anxious, especially when he sees the side scrolls of a familiar town name. His heart drops right to his stomach.

\--

 _He’s lost a lot more sleep_ since then. He hasn’t gotten any more letters or updates on his whereabouts. He is worrying himself sick. If something horrible happened to the love of his life, he wouldn’t know what to do!

He looks at himself in the mirror, trying to wipe his face of any excess tears. His eyes were all puffy from the constant sobbing he’s been doing. Sometimes he rereads Marco’s letters, and other times he still writes to him from the most current address he had. He counts down the days when he’s at his worst.

He was supposed to come back two weeks ago, but he hasn’t said anything. He’d shown up at the airport every day for the first ten days of waiting, and now waiting there made himself sick. He kept reassuring himself that he couldn’t be gone. He would’ve known if he was gone. After all, he was engaged to him! The military wouldn’t keep his demise a secret from him… would they?

Jean had a cartoon on in the background while he was eating dinner alone. He glances at the window to see the city skyline while picking at his meal with his fork. He sighs this hollow, shaky breath. The empty plate for the seat across from him shows his distant reflection. It seems to be mocking his devastation and anxiety.

While being lost in thought for what seems like hours, he suddenly hears someone fiddling with the lock outside of his apartment. It startles him, but Marco taught him how to be prepared in case someone tried to break in. He hurries in the closet and grabs a bat. The doorknob is still being jiggled by the time he reaches the frame. He’s nervous, but he unlocks it and is ready to swing it. He lunges, only to be stopped by warm arms pulling him in.

Just when he is about to struggle and shove, he looks up at who is suddenly hugging him. He dropped the bat on the floor. He would’ve collapsed if he wasn’t already being held.

“Marco!” He hurries to cling to him as tightly as possible, breaking down into sobs for the third time today. “Oh, thank god! Thank god!”

He showers him with kisses through his tears, which makes his lover laugh while he’s rubbing his back. “Yes, baby. I’m here,” he hums. “I’m home for good.”

Jean cuts him off by giving him a slap on the chest. “What the hell?! You had me worried sick!” he cried. “I saw on the news. And you didn’t write to me. I thought you were…”

“No, no,” he frowns and brings them both inside. “No, baby. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t write to you after the last letter. We had to keep moving. I’m sorry I scared you. I wanted to surprise you.”

He was sniffling while Marco gave him a tender smile.

“It took longer to come home than I expected,” he sighs while running his hands over his sides. “But I’m here now. I’ve finished my service. I’m back for good, I promise.”

Jean’s face begins to light up. “I’m so glad, truly. I’ve missed you so much!”

They give each other a passionate kiss, trying to touch each other wherever they could reach. Barely an inch is between them.

Marco smiles and takes Jean’s hand, kissing the ring on his finger. “And we’ll be together forever.” He holds him again to pick him up in his arms, and Jean is officially swooned.

They’d made enough love to help make up for all the lost time they had. Fate finally brought them together, and nothing was going to keep them apart any longer. They couldn’t be any happier if they tried.


	2. Bring Me Your Love Tonight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Heart Song / Healing
> 
> Marco comes home from the hospital after a long battle with leukemia, and he reflects on what has happened in his journey leading up to this point. He soon discovers a sweet surprise for him left by his caring boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also drawing art for this little story! I'm not sure how long it will take to finish it, but once it's done it will be added into this work.  
> Also, it's implied Pastel! Marco and Punk! Jean because I MISS THE PASTEL/PUNK JEANMARCO TROPE SO MUCH!

_Marco was wheeled out of the_ hospital, slightly disappointed that his boyfriend was nowhere in sight. Jean visited him while he was being checked on, but he wasn’t here for the day he was coming home. His parents assured him that he was at the house, but he was hoping that he’d be here.

He had leukemia; keyword: _had._ He’d gone through remission at long last. Marco couldn’t have asked for a better support system. His mother and father were always at his side whenever he needed them.

He was diagnosed in eighth grade. At that moment, he was so scared that no one was going to be his friend anymore. This was right after he’d just gone to a winter dance with Jean. They were only friends at the time, and he didn’t want him to leave. It was a major turnaround when he soon realized that not only would he still be his friend, but he would want to spend the rest of his life with him as time passed.

They were together through _everything,_ including Jean’s awkward phases and drastic changes in music taste. Marco was more interested in everything being light and airy, but some of Jean’s music rubbed off on him. He was so supportive of Jean’s passion in playing his guitar, and he loved to hear him play.

When he was confined to a hospital bed with tubes all over his body while suffering in ways none of his family members would understand, Jean would play music for him to help him feel better. During his first intense chemotherapy session, he’d played Arctic Monkeys for Marco and made him laugh while singing for him as well. His voice had gotten better since then.

Marco got him a sticker with the artist’s name for his guitar in hopes to remind him of how much he’d emotionally healed him. In response, Jean placed it closest to his heart on the body and kissed it every time before playing.

Jean helped him through Marco’s phases, too. There were days when he was too sick to go to school, and there were nights where he was in agony lying in bed, unable to sleep. His boyfriend often would sneak out just to help him rest, singing him lullabies and sometimes looking up soothing videos when he was too restless. Marco started losing his hair at fifteen, and he was so devastated and insecure every time he went to school. Jean helped him shave his whole head, as a symbol of not letting his cancer control his life. When preps and jocks mocked him for his bald head, Jean shaved his own head in retaliation and to stand in solidarity.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Marco had assured him. “You love your hair.”

“It will grow back,” Jean had said. “And so will yours. But until then, I’ll keep my head shaved until it does.”

He kept true to his word all this time.

Marco’s hair was growing back now, as he was reminiscing and driving home with his parents. He still liked to wear Jean’s favorite beanie to cover his head, though. It kept him warm, and even after wearing it for several years it still smelled like him.

When they got to his house, he saw Jean’s car in the driveway. His face lit up as he hurried to get out.

“Hold on,” his mother chuckled while holding him up when he stumbled. “You don’t have all your strength back just yet.”

He pouted and held onto the railing to go up the porch. “It _will_ be back soon, though.”

“Until then, let your father and I still help you when you need us.”

“Okay, Mom,” he rasped while the went in the house. “Jean?” he called and smiled. “I know you’re in here. You didn’t see me off at the hospital, you big butt!”

“I’m up here!” Jean hollered from his bedroom upstairs. “I had to work on something!”

Marco looked to his parents, and they gestured for him to go on. He was still a little weak, but he could manage just fine as he went upstairs and paced himself.

He missed most of his senior year, going in and out of the hospital and being stuck on homebound for almost half of the year. All the senior festivities were coming up soon, and he didn’t really feel like he was a part of it. And Jean always said how he hated being around most of the kids at school and didn’t want to go to prom, senior night, or anything like that. Prom was in a couple weeks. He wouldn’t even have anything ready for it, even if he attempted.

“Why’s the door shut?” Marco grinned as he grabbed the knob. Jean didn’t respond, but he didn’t waste much time. He opened the door, hearing Jean start to play his guitar.

Once he’d seen what was waiting for him in his room, he was shocked. Jean sang one of his favorite songs by City & Colour while sitting on his bed. Perched beside him was this big sign.

**Welcome Home, My Brave Ray of Sunshine.**

**Prom?**

Marco didn’t want to interrupt his singing, despite being floored by his sign. He started to cry, much to his dismay, but he was just so elated!

When he was finished with his song, Jean tilted his head with a grin on his face. “So… would you like to go with me?”

“Yes!” Marco hurried to give him the biggest hug he could muster.

When they kissed, Marco ran his hands through the coarse hair growing in on Jean’s head. The metal of his piercing was cool on his mouth, and he loved the feeling. They were together for so long that they lost track of time.

After Marco tried pulling away, he had a thought on his mind. “But what would I wear?”

“Your parents are taking care of everything,” he hummed. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“They knew?” he gasped. “They were in cahoots this whole time!”

Jean laughed and gave him another kiss. They both relaxed on the bed together the rest of the day, and Marco kept Jean’s poster perched right near his window so he could see it every day when he woke up. He wanted to always remember that he was Jean’s brave ray of sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com  
> writing blog: flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @wandering_tiff


	3. White Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is on the verge of a mental breakdown. He knew he shouldn't have completely cut ties with everyone, but he didn't know what else to do. But when Jean manages to sneak his way into his plans of taking a long, relaxing drive, he goes through things that he will end up laughing bout in a few weeks' time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Day Magic / Light
> 
> These elements totally aren't based off my real life at all. Nope. Not at all!  
> The car that Marco drives totally isn't my car at all! It totally isn't the same exact car with the SAME EXACT PROBLEMS WITH IT.  
> Okay, truth is that this prompt turned into a therapeutic, stress relief short story for me to help let out pent up feelings. And I interpreted Every Day Magic as a metaphor to eventually find the little things in life to make you feel joyful. I'm a sap.
> 
> Also, I more or less had this take place in the same universe as this [random prompt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1650536/chapters/4677867) I did for my nsfw challenge (which ALSO wasn't totally based off my real life at all).
> 
> Warnings: Anxiety, Panic Attack

_Marco needed to run away._

_He_ loved his family so much. Just sometimes, it often got too crowded at home. He just needed his space. Life was weighing him down far too much, lately. He’d gotten so much better in life, he really did. But when community college all but failed him with broken promises of an easy job and a fruitless, terrible transfer process, and a job that makes him have to choose between living life and working like a zombie for weeks, _months_ at a time, he was at a breaking point.

He drove a beat-up Taurus from ’88. It’s a great car to get him from point A to B, but he couldn’t go too far with it without worrying that he’d kill it. After surviving another ten hour shift working at Shit Hole, Hell Hole, USA, he got his well needed and deserved shower before driving South without another word to his folks, down one of the not so iconic highways of the country.

Route 9 stretched from New York to Delaware, and everyone and their mother complains about going through it in the summer in the grand armpit state of New Jersey. But when it’s all quiet, and the sun is shining just enough to highlight the trees and practically archaic buildings along the road, Marco enjoyed driving down it. Except driving North. Lakewood to Freehold was a bitch to drive through. He didn’t want to stress his whole joy ride, after all. He wanted to relax!

Customers and even his managers have torn him to shreds today, emotionally and mentally. He didn’t want to talk to a single person at all. He started to drive through the suburbs of his town before finding his way to the highway. He turned on his pathetic excuse of an aux cord, due to lack of a built-in CD player, and he was going to let instrumentals on Pandora soothe him without dealing with any human contact. These kinds of rides were the best, especially when he was driving while the sun was setting West and all the rays of violet and pink little the sky in a magnificent light show.

Northbound was packed due to everyone trying to rush to the Shore, but he was content with the low volume of traffic while it was still too early for everyone to start getting home from work. While he just got passed the obnoxious traffic light leading him on his journey, he received an unexpected phone call. He briefly checked it while trying his best to just stay focused on the road.

**Incoming Call: Jean**

Jean Kirschtein, his boyfriend. They’d been together for a little over three years, but their relationship had been pretty much been mutually silent while they were both going through hard times. This included school for Jean and, well, Marco’s entire existence.

Marco was starting to think that maybe they were going to break up. He didn’t want that to happen at all. He loved him so much! But what if Jean got tired of his bouts of radio silence and having the worst anxiety to ever be forced upon a human being. Only time will tell.

For the love of god, he did not want to hear a single person’s voice right now—and it was already aggravating enough that he had to listen to Pandora commercials in between his ambience—but he missed him.

He missed the call.

His music resumed after a delayed crescendo.

After a sigh of relief, he continued driving after the latest traffic light turned green. He needed to just calm down. This was his one moment of freedom, right here. No one could tell him to do anything or order him around. He didn’t have to listen to reality clawing at him. It was just him and the road.

His phone started to ring again.

Why did Jean want to talk to him? This time, he was getting more and more exasperated. This was his alone time! How dare he disturb it by bringing back the haunting memories of heated romance, summer love, and a break up that he caused by nonetheless crushed him. He answered the phone.

“What do you want?” he muttered while driving.

_“Wow, what a great way to greet your boyfriend.”_

Hearing Jean’s voice made his heart pound. “I didn’t really wanna talk to anyone right now. People are assholes.”

_“Aren’t they always?”_ He heard a chuckle. His voice was honey to his ears. _“I just got off work. What are you doing?”_

“Driving,” he sighed. “I’m on Route 9.”

_“Oh, perfect! You can pick me up?”_

“Wha—?” he whined to himself. “Why? Don’t you have a car?”

He heard him sigh. _“My aunt has it. My dad let her borrow it while I was away at school, and now that I’m back for the summer she_ still _hasn’t given it back. I’m starting to get a little concerned.”_

“I see you,” he sighed as he was passing by a transit bus stop. “Here, I’ll pull over.”

He went into the parking lot of the business closest to the stop. Jean gave him an eager wave. He looked different, somehow. I mean, his haircut was the same, his smile was the same, and he had the same piercings on his ear and backpack slung over his shoulder that he had since high school. But he just looked happier, somehow. Maybe it was because Jean was happier without him weighing him down.

“Hey!” Marco had to reach and unlock the door in order for Jean to come in. He shut the door, and the interior popped out a bit.

“Don’t slam it!” Marco hissed. “It’s falling apart.”

“It’s hot as hell in here!” Jean groaned and tossed his backpack in the back seat. It landed on his brother’s car seat. “How’ve you been?”

“Better,” he frowned as he pulled out to continue driving. “I take it you want a ride home?”

“Actually, I was wondering where you were going,” he beamed. “I wanna join you.”

“Why?” Marco sounded glum, disgruntled, tired. He was anything but excited.

“Well, we haven’t talked to each other in a long time,” Jean sighed. “I miss you.”

That shocked him, but the feeling was mutual, of course. “I miss you too. You know that. I just figured that you got tired of little ol’ me.”

“Me? Tired?” he grinned. “Impossible! I’m crazy about you, babe.”

Marco blushed while he was driving, and as he passed another QuickCheck he sped up to meet with the changing speed limit. “Taking a Route 9 drive.”

“Ooo, I always wanted to go with you on one of those!” he grinned. “Hey, can we change the music?”

“Whyyy, Jean?” he whined again. “I’ve had enough with people and voices today. I just wanted to drive.”

“I know. But allow me to cheer you up, because clearly this isn’t working.” He changed the station.

Marco left it alone and just drove. He didn’t say anything most of the ride. He listened to Jean sing along to the songs, and one of them was starting to get him really annoyed. He didn’t want to joke around right now.

“Can you stop that?” he muttered when Jean was pulling another goofy voice.

“Huh? What’s your problem?”

“Can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate?” he mumbled. He stopped at a traffic light. He’d decided it’d be a good idea to turn the air conditioning off after Jean got in and they’d opened the windows. But what he tended to forget was that the thermostat was shit. They were in Barnegat, and they’d had to stop quite a few times due to red lights.

“Look, I know you have a lot going on, but it doesn’t help at all that you don’t talk to somebody. Hell, I’ve been waiting for your texts for weeks! Don’t keep it all inside. You’re just hurting yourself more.”

“No one would want to listen to the things going on in my head.”

“Ooo, edgy.” That was the most sarcastic retort Marco had ever heard. “I know how to easily fix that. You gotta clear your head.”

“I don’t mean to feel this way. I don’t like it,” he said in defeat. “It’s just...old habits die hard, y’know? When it gets really bad, I can’t help but resort back to what keeps me comfortable. It’s unfair, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You need to take better control of your life,” Jean sighed. “Those shitheads at work are tearing you apart, and you’re letting them! You gotta let them know that enough is enough.”

“I wanna quit,” he groaned. He could not cry. Not here.

“I know, but you should find another job first. C’mon, there’s the Rite Aid across the street. Why not try that? Or _any_ dollar store! You gotta take initiative. You’ve got a lot more guts in you than you realize. You just have to not only show the people around you, but yourself, as well. I know you can do it.”

Jean’s words help him for the moment, and neither of them could deny the small smile that was starting to stretch from ear to ear. He really missed when Jean helped him through his issues, even if it was only for a short time.

“I’ll go find a new job,” he assured him. “A-and do you think you can help me get some counseling? I don’t feel comfortable enough finding someone that will help me on my own.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled. “And trust me. It’s gonna help you a lot. I promise.”

The light turned green. The whole car had been jittering and rocking in place like it was having a conniption while sitting in place. But when he stepped on the gas to go, it would not move.

_Oh no._

“What’s the matter?” Jean hummed as he looked to him. The cars behind him started to slam angrily on their horns.

“The car stalled. It does that when it's overheating.” Marco felt panic rising up to his throat, making him feel sick. He tried starting up the ignition, but he had to remember to put the car back in park before trying that.

When the north lane cleared up, suddenly there were dozens of angry drivers swerving and passing his stalled vehicle so aggressively that he was worried that they were going to hit him. They were all coming so quickly, their horns pulsing in his ears.

He didn’t even catch what Jean said at first.

“Babe, put your hazards on.”

Marco was so tense as he turned them on, his lights flashing as he tried to start his car. It wasn’t catching!

“Hey asshole!” One driver screamed at him while swerving dangerously close. “Where’d you learn how to drive?! You park in the parking lot!” He then sped off.

“Fuck off!” Jean screamed after him, despite him being hundreds of feet away at this point.

The light turned red once again. And Marco’s panic was peaked once again. He’d already cried at work for four hours straight, and now he was feeling tears threatening to roll down his cheeks once again. His heart was pounding, and all he saw in his head were people screaming at him, calling him an asshole, nitpicking his tiny mistakes. It wasn’t his fault that he had a car that overheated all the time!

“Babe, relax.” Jean touched his shoulder, making him flinch. “You need to calm down.”

“Can’t they just see that I’m trying?! They don’t have to make me feel like a piece of shit for something I can’t control!” Marco started to sob, his face hot and his body stiff.

“Marco, calm down.” He felt his hand rubbing his shoulder. “Hey. Don’t pay attention to what the other cars are doing.”

Marco’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as the light turned green. This time, people were a little less aggressive while passing them, but some were still assholes nonetheless. He was trying to stop himself from crying, but it was so hard when his mind was still racing.

Jean was still right beside him, unfazed. “Babe, let’s trying that grounding thing, okay? Remember when we looked that up?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded and sniffled. His car _finally_ was able to start, but no one was letting him go! He whimpered.

“Alright… what are the five things you see?”

His eyes were darting around him.

“Relax…”

Marco sighed. “The road… the light turning yellow. And the people going left. There’s a pharmacy and an old street sign.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Now four things you can feel?”

He took a deep breath. He’d finally stopped crying when the light turned red. “I feel the steering wheel. My butt’s going numb in the seat.”

Jean laughed a bit when he heard that.

“There’s the brake pedal… and I can feel you rubbing your shoulder.”

“Three things you hear?”

Marco was relaxing more. This technique was helping him feel a little more controlled. The both rolled their windows down and turned the air on. Marco turned the hazards of his car off.

“There’s the engine… and then there’s the radio. And I hear you.” Marco sighed in relief as the light turned green and he started driving once again. His grip loosened on the wheel, and he was the front of the line once again.

“There you go…” Jean crooned and sat back in his seat. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he sighed and wiped his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Thank you.”

“Any time…” There was an empty parking lot of a closed antique shop, and Jean felt like it was a good idea to let him relax a little more before driving further. “Let’s pull over here.”

Marco did as he was told. He was still shaky, and his head finally stopped feeling so full. He stopped the car to let his engine cool down a little more, and they both got out of the car to stretch their legs.

Jean smiled at him and rubbed his shoulders. “Let’s finish up the technique, okay? What are two of your favorite smells?”

He hummed softly and nuzzled further into Jean’s arms. “Chocolate cake… and your cologne.”

He heard a gentle murmur of praise while Jean was kissing his head. He was exhausted, but Jean was breathing life right back into him. Why didn’t he talk to him sooner? He always helped him figure out how to calm down.

“What is your favorite taste?”

Marco blushed and looked up. “Chocolate cake.”

Jean laughed and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips.

It felt like heaven. Marco leaned against the car and pulled Jean closer for a deeper kiss. With their names on both their lips and sparks on their tongues, he was starting to forget about all the demons he had to face today and only cared about what was going on right now. It was extremely relaxing for him. He loved it so much.

“I love you,” he breathed while pressing their foreheads together.

Jean’s nose nuzzled right against his when he heard him say that. “I love you too, baby.”

“I’m okay now,” he sighed and opened the car door. “Wanna continue driving?”

“Of course,” Jean smiled and held his hand. “I’d love that.”

“Oh, _perfect!_ ” Marco was starting to feel a little more like his old self again. “Because we’re gonna drive all the way down to Tuckerton. And we’ll be driving back home just in time for the sun to start setting.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

They were more careful to make sure the car didn’t stall again during the rest of their drive. They went all the way South at the tip of the county, and from a long dead-end road they could see the distant skyline of Atlantic City. They weren’t able to stay here too long. As much as Marco wanted to just come here to be right at the cove and relax while listening to the sound of the waves, it was a territory marked by old fishermen that gave judgmental looks to anyone that tried to come near them. So they drove around a little more through the peaceful neighborhood until Marco felt like it was a good idea to drive up north again.

“Last time I was here, there was this weird billboard with an eagle that had a tear in its eye,” Marco explained during their drive back. “They took it down, though before I can show people on twitter!”

“Aww man!” he groaned as they both laughed together. “I would’ve really gotten a kick out of that!”

As they were passing through Manahawkin, they saw the entrance to Long Beach Island.

“Hey, wanna go to the lighthouse?” Jean beamed while they were driving.

“Sure!” Marco still didn’t want to go home any time soon. He was trying to catch up with his boyfriend.

They continued their little trip, and they got as close as they could to the lighthouse when reaching Barnegat again on the island side. They stepped out of the car with the sky turning violet and the first stars shining in the sky. With the waves crashing against the shore and the dying light illuminating the two of them while they continued to watch the sunset, they kissed each other once again, a lot more confidently and ferverently.

He had some explaining to do on the ride home, and he was dreading to have to wake up long before the ass crack of dawn tomorrow morning with less than six hours of sleep, but that didn’t matter to him right now. All that mattered was the every day magic that Jean helped him see, and the sun and moon reuniting for a brief moment in the sky outside of his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com  
> writing blog: flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @wandering_tiff

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: http://tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com  
> writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @wandering_tiff  
> 


End file.
